Okay! An important note: (to those of you who don't bother looking) THIS IS IMPORTANT, DAMNIT! Ahem, sorry about that, but, before you begin reading this, I'd like to clear up several things that you'll undoubtly be annoyed/angry enough to flame me without knowing.

BEFORE YOU ATTEMPT TO FLAME:

All the tattoos mentioned all have clear and SPECIFIC meanings (with the exception of the gun-wing tattoo- but that'll come into play later). Secondarily, the number of tattoos on her, while to the normal person, may look extensive and over-done, is actually quite a light sprinkling of tattoo's for a mobster. To give an accurate reference point, Nickolai (Viggo Mortsen, starring in Eastern Promises) had total of forty-three tattoos spanning his body (yes, this movie was well researched- and very accurate). So, basically, this character is not just "So damn badassed she's automatically a Mary Sue."

The tattoos were well researched, but if you have any problem(s) with the meanings given, feel free to contact me.

Soft groans alerted Jean that her newest patient was awake. She was an odd -if not, scary- one, for sure. The girl seemed to be covered in tattoos and scars, the worst of which being her missing ring finger on her right hand. One tattoo that caught her eye the most, however, was a highly decorated tattoo of a dagger on her chest, the tip ending just before her bust. While small, the daggers intricate design indicated a painful - and meaningful- message to those who knew it's meaning.

Several others gave her foreboding chills. Like the Reaper with his scythe, or the skull with flowers, each located on opposite -and very honed- biceps. Along with a spider web on her shoulder, a picture of Madonna with a over-sized child in her arms on her lower back, and a pair of matching handguns on each shoulder blade that reminded her of a pair of wings, due to their odd placement. She couldn't even begin to understand the meanings that to a few select others, would be plain as day.

Their appeared to be several phrases tattooed onto the girl, as well. German, perhaps Russian, she couldn't tell. Lastly, were the small tattoo's. Three dots behind her left ear, a very precise cross on the inside of her right wrist that looked strangely familiar, barbed wire that wrapped around her ankle - strangely, it only had five barbs on it-, what looked to be a rather fresh tattoo, a dead rat, nailed to a door, on the back of her neck, and lastly, a small hour glass behind her right ear. Of all sixteen tattoo's on the girl, she could only recognize two. The rat: somehow, somewhere, for some unknown reason, she had done or said something to be labeled a rat, a cheat, a traitor, or something of that nature. She could only guess what it being dead and nailed to a door could suggest. And the hour glass that could only mean one thing.

She had served prison time. This girl, no matter how young - her face said she couldn't be older than thirty, Twenty-five looked to be more accurate- was dangerous. Very much so.

"How are you feeling?" It seemed like a bad idea to start thing off on a bad note with this girl, as well as to the fact that treating her harshly when she didn't even know her would go against everything the X-men stood for.

"Shit…" came the rather unintelligible -and Russian accented- answer. 'What's my name…? Oh, this cannot be good…' the girl attempted to get up, resulting in the vicious onslaught of a large and unpleasant headache.

"Oh! Don't get up, you've got a concussion."

"Pyerhaps a bit late, no?" came the girl, rubbing her head gingerly, but still sitting, or rather, clinging, upright on the examination table.

"How are you feeling?" Jean asked, reaching over to open the girl's eyelid, flashlight in hand. When the girl didn't protest, but seemed rather used to it, Jean continued, becoming slightly more comfortable.

"… How do you Amyericans say et… eh, "shitty?"" Jean coughed slightly, an almost-smile on her face.

"Something like that, I suppose." She paused for a moment, looking at her eyes closely. "Are you wearing contacts?" The girl leaned back, taking a good, long look at Jean.

"I… I vould not know. But, I think I ahm, for my eyes, zey feel like, how you say, "sandpaper"" Jeans face scrunched slightly, confused.

"What do you mean you don't know?" The girl gave her another hard look.

"…Vould you happyen to know my nyame?" The girl wasn't actually asking for an answer to her question, but rather, said it as a way to clarify her situation. The sound of the door opening distracted the two girls.

"Jean, how is our patient?" Professor Xavier asked.

"She's… she's got amnesia, most likely from her concussion, and comes from Russia, judging from her accent and tattoos. " Jean would fill the professor in on the other little things later- like her affiliation with the Russian Mafia, of which she was almost completely certain.

"Well, that seems to be a problem. Tell me, do you remember your name?" She looked at him, chewing the inside of her cheek for a second.

"No, I ryemember noothing,"

"Oh, we found this on you." Jean said, handing a journal over to the girl. She looked at the writing on it. It said "Read Me" in Russian on the cover.

"May I be allowed to kyeep this?" the professor looked at her for a moment, surprised?

"Oh course, but I believe we will have to think of a name for you," he said, hoping to get some conversation out of her.

The girl shrugged "Ye may call me vatever ye plyeases. But I doubt I vill come," if the professor was surprised by her obviously aloof and defiant-seeming nature, he did not show it. But perhaps he wasn't, as he did deal with an entire mansion filled mostly with teenagers.

"Very well, do you remember what you mutation is?" The girl looked at him piercingly.

"Mutation…?" she looked at her book flipping through it. All the written on pages seemed to have tape neatly placed on them in case of a situation like the one she must have just had, because the book appeared to be wet. " Vere vas I found?"

" The banks of San Diego." She flipped to the last page. Reading it carefully, despite the simple sentence it contained. Today, I'm going to try and kill myself, despite the conversation I had with myself earlier. Apparently. If I'm reading this, I suppose it means to not try that again, as I (or perhaps, we) appear to be bad a dying. She stared at the writing, tracing it with her finger. "I trrried to kill mysyelf."

Jean looked up sharply, "what?!"

"Don't vorry, I asked mysyelf not to trrrry et again if et did not vork," she said, rolling her "r's" quite nicely, coupling with her casual hand waves. The professor sighed slightly, this, without any real doubt, would be trouble.

"We haven't introduced ourselves, I'm Professor Charles Xavier, and this is Jean Grey."

"Prrrrofyessor, Jyean," she said, respectively nodding to the names owner.

My (stolen) guide to a relatively good Russian accent!

1. In Russian, the letter "e" is pronounced with a "y" in front of it. So many Russians end up adding this "y" even when they're talking English. (They don't usually do this when "e" is at the front of the word, but they do when it's in the middle of a word).For example, instead of "letter" or "very", say "lyetter" and "vyery". 2. In Russian, the letter "o" is pronounced long. In other words, it sounds like "or" in English (with a silent "r").For example, instead of "boss", say "borse", to rhyme with "horse". Purse your lips when pronouncing this sound3. In Russian, the letter "r" is hard and clearly pronounced. Often Russians like to roll it.4. Russians generally have trouble pronouncing the letter "w," usually preferring to replace it with the letter "v." Like the typical German accent, only deeper and richer.

For example, "would" or "we" might be pronounced "vould" or "ve"

5. In general, try and articulate every sound more strongly than you normally would. For example, when you have a consonant at the end of a word, linger on it longer.

Forllow thyese rrruless, andd you'lll have a vyerrry goodd Rrrussiann accentt!

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